Virgil writes so lyrically and with such vivid metaphors in The Aeneid, and praises duty and loyalty to family and nation, but the gore is continuous at times. It illustrates so clearly that in early Roman culture, there was no inherent value placed on human life. Perhaps when even your gods are morally debased, human life in turn loses essential meaning. He gets some things so well, but clearly misses the mark--he had an appreciation for dying well, but not for life itself. I mean, listen to this metaphor--it's poignant and beautiful, but it's talking about a decapitation:
"...his neck droops,
sinking over a shoulder, limp as a crimson flower
cut off by a passing plow, that droops as it dies
or frail as poppies, their necks weary, bending
their heads when a sudden shower weighs them down."
The Colosseum, too, was breath-taking. Immense, complex, and ancient.
These are the network of tunnels that lay beneath the main floor. Lifts and tunnels so that animals (lions and tigers... even porcupines? That one came as a surprise...) could be released at any point to surprise the gladiators or prisoners of war. They even flooded the arena to reenact naval battles. It was entirely theatrical, timed, dramatic, to draw out death to the most glorified extent...
When Emperor Titus opened the Colosseum (originally called the Flavian Amphitheatre... can't imagine why they changed the name), he held lavish games for one hundred days straight. In those one hundred days, two thousand gladiators were slaughtered. Two Thousand. That's not even touching on the amount of animals killed as well. In its prime, games were held every day--typically, the lives of men hung on the goodwill and mood of the bored and bloodthirsty masses.
They kept the arena layered with sand to soak up the blood.
...but at the same time, it is grand and impressive and breath-taking! Just imagine it when it was at its height (or watch Gladiator... that would do it, too). It's sad to me that such an incredible feat of engineering and architecture was little more than a theatrical and entertaining slaughter-house used primarily for propaganda.
The entire Colosseum (like the Palatine Hill) was crawling with tourists. I was a little disillusioned by the large groups of teenage girls posing and smirking at the camera at a place like this. I'm not sure why this was different than any other historic monument around Rome, and why the camera-loving bothered me here. I think it's because thousands upon thousands died here, and for the entertainment of the masses, and to some extent we are still entertained by their deaths. I mean, look at all the people gathering to see the place where gladiators once fought.
...but I still smiled, and took my picture with the Colosseum. And took pictures with my friends, and walked the tourist walk. I guess part of me was sickened inside.
We also saw the Circus Maximus and Piazza Navona. These are the two main arenas where Christians faced deaths of martyrdom. It resonated deeply to see the wide expanse where chariots once raced, see the hillside that used to fill with the populace, and see the sandy soil on which my brothers and sisters in Christ took their final stand.
Such a peaceful place, now. Families were strolling by, Cypress trees line either end of the stadium, and a long aisle of umbrella pines shelter the side. Everything about it is tranquil (except for ongoing excavations). It's almost a peaceful tribute to the lives lost here.
This is Piazza Navona, which has become one of the most popular and thriving squares in Rome. It is full of artisans, two fountains by Bernini, and many sidewalk cafes and picturesque gelaterias. It's difficult to imagine it when it was Domitian's Stadium--the only similarity is the shape of the track that the chariots used to follow. (photo credit: Ariel Goehring. I haven't nabbed a picture of this yet)
Kate and I explored a little one day, and found ourselves back at the Circus Maximus. Not many ruins remain here, but the land still holds its form and tells its history. Although the Roman temples, roads, and basilicas are impressive and interesting, these sites of Christian martyrdom speak to a place deep in my heart. They provide food for reflection and thanksgiving that God used the blood of the martyrs as the seed of the church. Although the sand of this place soaked up the blood of those Christians, that blood paved the way for the gospel to flourish and spread to the nations. And that is the hope that transforms these sights of blood into land which speaks of God's faithfulness.
"Through the Lord's mercies we are not consumed,
Because His compassions fail not.
They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness.
'The Lord is my portion,' says my soul,
'Therefore I hope in Him!'"
-Lamentations 3:22-24
No comments:
Post a Comment